


Homecoming

by Brenda



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Marcus Flavius Aquila, Established Relationship, Happy Farmers In Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: Esca returns back to the farm after two months away.  Marcus is there to greet him with open arms.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mizzmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzmarvel/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, MizzMarvel!!! I hope the heat factor is high enough for you!

The midday sun beats down mercilessly overhead, not a cloud in the sky as far as the eye can see, and Marcus had shed his tunic hours ago in deference to the heat. He works the scythe rhythmically, his arm swinging as the hay and oats fall to the ground. It's good, honest work, physically taxing, but not so hard on his leg that he feels like he's in danger of straining it past its breaking point. 

If the men under his command in Gaul could see him now, doubtless, they'd be howling with laughter to see their leader toiling like a common farmer. But he's come to peace with his lot in life, and the fate the Gods have given him. The last four years tending crops and livestock, helping Esca break and train the horses, have taught him much of humility, and much more about acceptance.

Sweat beads along his forehead, pools in the hollow of his throat, and rolls along his spine and chest. His lungs and muscles are burning, but the ache is pleasant, much like the way he used to feel after a hard day of training. His soldiering days may be well behind him, but his body still needs regular exercise – and with Esca gone these last several weeks, off north of the Wall to sell one of their mares and her two colts, Marcus has had all of the physical activity he can handle. Theirs may be a small farm, compared with others, but the day-to-day upkeep has proven a challenge. 

But not even working himself to the bone and falling asleep exhausted every night hasn’t made the time pass any faster. This isn't the first time Esca's been away, but his absence is still no easier to bear. The nights are still lonely without Esca's steady presence and quick wit, and their shared bed is far too big without Esca curled against him like a cat, radiating energy and life, even in the deepest of slumber.

Marcus moves to the next row, the scythe flashing silver in the sun, and lets his mind wander as it will, mentally cataloguing a list of tasks still left to accomplish while the weather holds. When Esca returns, they'll need to plant the clover in the south field, and they'll need to head into town to barter for some more spices and to stock up on olive oil and cabbages and radishes, possibly _liquamen_ and figs, if they're not too costly. Marcus is also desperate for a proper bath – scrubbing himself in the small creek that runs on the western edge of their land is good enough for washing away the mud and dirt after a long day, but it's a poor substitute for a proper Roman _caldarium_.

He may work and dress and think as a heathen most of the time, but there are still some Roman traditions he finds hard to break.

One of the horses neighs, and Marcus glances up, shading his eyes with one hand, as a figure emerges over the crest at the top of the hill. Even at this distance, Marcus knows it's Esca. There's no mistaking that proud swagger, or that chiseled, stubborn jawline, or the color of Esca's hair – the same shade of wheat as the summer hay. Esca is still as wiry and lean as ever, with a body that reminds Marcus of the tigers he used to see in the arenas, raw grace and dangerous power, devastatingly beautiful. His tunic and leggings are dusty from the road, but in good condition, and his smile, so dearly missed, is dimpled and wide as he waves his hand in welcome. 

Marcus feels the tension between his shoulders ease as he takes his first deep breath in weeks – Esca has returned to him safe and whole. His prayers and sacrifices to the Gods have been answered.

"I must say, this is quite the sight for my weary eyes," Esca comments, once he's close enough to be heard.

Marcus glances down at himself – naked from the waist up, and sticky with sweat – then back into Esca's amused eyes. He can feel the blush spread from his cheeks to his chest. He looks nothing like a dignified Roman, nothing like the commander he used to be. But, with the way Esca's devouring him with just a look, he finds he does not mind in the slightest.

"Did you miss me?" Esca asks, artfully careless, as though Marcus can't see the way Esca is swaying towards him like a flower following the sun.

"Miss you?" Marcus can barely think past the blood roaring in his ears. "Esca, it's been almost two months."

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Esca replies, and stalks to him, closing the remaining distance with long strides, a predator to his core.

Marcus drops the scythe to the ground and meets Esca halfway, every atom of his body drawn to Esca, like iron filings to a magnet. They crash together, force against force, kissing so hard it tips past pleasure and right into pain. Marcus doesn't care. He's got Esca back in his arms, hale and healthy, and that's all that matters. His lips drag against the stubble on Esca's jaw as they seek to learn each other anew, erasing the long weeks of separation with each touch.

"Come," Esca urges, shuffling them awkwardly towards the hut, even as he clutches tight to Marcus' shoulders, nails digging ragged crescents across overheated skin.

As soon as they reach the door, Marcus fumbles for the latch. It sticks, as it always does, the warmth of the sun warping the wood just so, and Marcus growls in frustration. He's not above rutting against Esca's hip in front of the chickens and quietly grazing horses like some untrained, callow youth, but a softer surface would be preferable. He's not entirely sure how long his leg will hold out.

Mercifully, the latch gives way, and they go stumbling inside the cool, slightly damp interior in a tangle of limbs and eager hands, grinding against each other, and Esca finally slams Marcus bodily against the hard-packed earth, so hard it rattles Marcus' teeth. "This is all I've thought about since I left," Esca says, raking his nails across Marcus' chest, every scratch trailing fire in their wake, "Marking every part of your body with my hands and teeth and cock –"

"Fuck... _fuck_ ," Marcus pants, and finally, thank the Gods, is able to untangle the laces of Esca's breeches so he can slide his fist around Esca's cock. So much for a softer surface; the floor of their hut will do just fine. "I need you inside me. Now. Yesterday."

Once, such words would have shamed him – a proud Roman, a _centurion_ , brought so low by his own lecherous desires. But those days – and that man – have long since gone, and Marcus cannot find it in himself to regret it. His life these days suits him far too well, and the pleasures he and Esca find together far outweigh the cold comfort of duty and pride. There is no shame in giving himself to Esca, no shame at all in the love he and Esca have for one another, equals in all of the ways that truly matter.

Esca's teeth scrape against Marcus' lower lip, rough and the best sort of pain, on the next kiss. "You have ten seconds to get your leggings off before I cut them off of you."

"I see time away hasn't tempered your tongue," Marcus teases, as Esca starts to climb off of him.

Esca's eyes flash with humor. "Do as you're told, and my tongue may indeed be a reward."

As far as incentives go, it's a pretty good one. Marcus just manages not to disgrace himself by begging, as he manages to shove his leggings and sandals off without too much flailing. He almost gets up and goes to their bed, but it seems much too far away. 

Esca fumbles with one of the pouches on his belt for a moment, then triumphantly produces a stopper of oil. He sheds his tunic and belt a moment later, and the light catches the sun-warmed bronze of his skin, casting it in shades of gold. He's more freckled now, his chest and shoulders dotted with new marks, and Marcus' mouth waters from the need to trace them with his tongue. The tattoos on Esca's bicep flex as he stretches, graceful and sure, under Marcus' appreciative gaze. He's still wearing his breeches, and just the way the soft material hugs the sharp jut of Esca's narrow hips sends shivers down Marcus' spine. He's missed this, missed Esca, more than he can possibly say.

Esca hands the oil to Marcus and kneels at Marcus' feet. Then he pulls his leggings down far enough to free his cock and balls, and his hand goes to his length, fisting it nice and slow, the open vee a perfect frame for the action. Esca looks like temptation incarnate, with his flushed face and heavy-lidded eyes, and those assured, long fingers wrapped snug around himself.

"Get yourself ready to receive me while I watch." The look on Esca's face is hot enough to scorch the very earth beneath their feet, hot enough to set Marcus' body ablaze.

"You want a show? Truly?" Marcus pops the stopper off the bottle, the rich, sharp scent of olive oil filling the air as it spills over his fingers. "I don't think I have the patience for such a thing. Not after so long." Already, he's aching to be filled, for Esca to claim what is his by right.

"Not a show." Esca strokes his cock, drawing Marcus' gaze back to those clever fingers, and the beads of precome pearling along the slit. "I've just missed watching you is all."

Esca's simple, unvarnished declaration shouldn't melt Marcus' heart, especially after all these years together, yet here they are. Marcus swallows around the hard ball of want taking residence in his throat, and plants his feet on the ground. He slides a hand between his asscheeks, and he presses one finger in, slower than he'd like, but rough enough that the pain shudders through him, welcome and raw.

"Very pretty, but I know you can take more than that," Esca comments, authoritative and low and _fuck_ but that tone gets to Marcus every single time. "I'm sure you've pleasured yourself thus while I was away."

"I thought you said you'd missed watching me," Marcus comments, shifting so he can crook his finger at an angle that's exactly the right shade of perfect. 

"Marcus..."

"Alright, alright," Marcus grumbles, but it comes out more of a groan when he adds another finger. The angle is all wrong for him to get in as deep as he'd like, but he reminds himself this is for Esca's benefit, not his own.

Esca starts stroking in time with Marcus' movements, all lean limbs and bright smile, blue eyes dancing, and his cock already so hard that Marcus's mouth starts to water. As much as he wants Esca inside him, he wants to taste him even more.

Sitting up, he makes a small gesture. "Please, I need..."

"Tell me and it's yours," Esca says, and Marcus can tell Esca means every word of it. The knowledge – the power of it – makes Marcus feel like he's whole again. 

"I...I think I'll just...I want...I just want to suck you right now, if you'll let me."

Esca shuffles forward to straddle Marcus' chest, and slides one hand around the back of Marcus' head to lift it. "Slowly," he says. "I know it's been awhile, and I would not have you injure yourself."

Marcus nods, too far gone to speak, and opens his mouth wide, lets Esca come to him. And the first thick slide – that first taste – has Marcus moaning in the back of his throat. Esca tastes faintly of the olive oil, but under it is the muskier taste that's all Esca, a taste he's missed so much.

He tries to keep it slow and easy like Esca told him, tries to let Esca set the pace, but it's hard not to just push and choke on it. Instead, he relaxes his throat and flattens his tongue on the underside, stretches his lips, and starts to match Esca's tiny thrusts. He tries to go deeper and only succeeds in gagging himself. He's grateful when Esca pulls back just a little, giving him time to breathe and regain control. He flicks his tongue across the frenulum, laving along the sensitive skin, and smiles to himself when Esca lets out a soft groan.

"Easy." Esca starts to slowly push forward again, still cradling the back of Marcus' skull, fingers gently toying with Marcus' hair. "That's it," he breaths, free hand resting against Marcus' jaw. "Just like...ah, Marcus, look at you...you are so beautiful like this..."

Marcus isn't sure maybe if it's the soft words of encouragement and praise spilling like precious jewels from Esca's mouth, but whatever it is, it works. One second, Marcus is tilting his head to get a better angle, and the next thing he knows, he can feel the short, wiry hairs of Esca's groin against his lips, and by the Gods, yes, he's done it, he has every hard, hot inch of Esca's cock down his throat.

Then Esca starts moving, gentle, but firm, holding Marcus in place, his hips thrusting shallow and perfect, and Marcus is so proud of himself for being able to please Esca thus, for giving Esca exactly what he needs. He's even more proud of himself for asking for what he wants, for taking control even as he puts himself entirely in Esca's hands. 

"You love suckling me like this, don't you," Esca murmurs, low and filthy, and Marcus moans his assent. "Were I a bard or poet, I would sing my praise of your skill, I would compose verses in your honor...oh, Marcus, yes, _there_..."

Marcus can feel himself trembling as his hands come to rest on Esca's hips, and he tries to relax, breathing through his nose, as Esca keeps the languid pace. He never, ever wants to move. Never wants any sustenance that's not Esca's cock, any taste that isn't the musky salt of Esca's precome coating his tongue.

When Esca starts to pull away, he tightens his hold in protest. "Shhh, it's alright," Esca soothes, even as he slips out of Marcus' mouth entirely.

"Esca, I..." His voice sounds raw, rough, even to his own ears, and he paws helplessly at Esca's hips; already he feels empty, aching, _needy_.

Esca scoots down, and spreads Marcus' thighs open. "I promise, next time, I'll finish in your mouth, but I really, really want to be inside you right now..."

Marcus jerks out a nod, not trusting himself to speak. His throat feels raw and bruised and his lips feel cracked, but he still _wants_ so much he can feel himself shivering. Then slick fingers start to press inside him, slow, but insistent, and he surrenders to it, opens himself up fully. 

"What do you require?" Esca asks, and when Marcus finally blinks his eyes open, it's to see Esca stroking oil onto his cock with one hand, while his other is still between Marcus' thighs. 

"Just you," Marcus croaks. The raspiness of his voice thrills him, sending a shiver racing across his skin. Or maybe that's just Esca's fingers inside him, going so much deeper than his own thick, clumsy ones. "Your cock inside me, you taking me..."

"I'm yours," Esca says, smiling like Marcus has just given him the best gift ever. He shifts, stretching out until he's settled on top of Marcus, the coarse fabric of his leggings scraping against the sensitive skin of Marcus' inner thighs. 

"Please," Marcus whispers, and Esca brings their lips together in a kiss – slow, voluptuous, and so hot he can feel his brain cells sizzling. He moans deep in his throat, chasing Esca's tongue, sucking on it the same way he did Esca's cock. " _Please_ ," he manages, between kisses. "I need you..." 

"I know, _mo cridhe_ , I know," Esca murmurs against his lips, shifting his weight again, and Marcus' breath catches.

The feel of Esca's cock slowly pressing into him, stretching him, is so sublime that Marcus' heart feels like it's stopped. So he clings to Esca and presses open-mouthed kisses down his throat, licks at the sweat clinging in the hollow, trying to convey everything he's feeling without words.

"So good, you're still so tight..." Esca says, pushing slowly, inexorably, filling Marcus up so much that it feels like he's splitting in two. He strokes Marcus' side, gentle but firm, from hip to shoulder, lingering along the delicate skin of his ribs.

"More." It's all he's capable of saying, all he's capable of _feeling_. He wants more, wants everything. Anything Esca wants to give him, all that Esca is offering. 

Esca smiles, and pushes again, bottoming out, then he starts to move. "Just hold onto me. Hold on, and don't hold back, let me hear you, mark me and use me as you will."

Marcus nods, clutches at Esca's shoulders, certain he's bruising Esca's skin with the force of his grip, but taking Esca's earlier words to heart. If Esca wants marks, then Marcus wants to give them to him. If Esca wants to hear how much Marcus loves this, loves being fucked and owned exactly like this, then Marcus will happily tell him. Just as long as Esca doesn't stop.

"I dreamed of this every night you were away, you taking me just like this," he says – well, more babbles, but he doesn't think Esca will mind. "My fingers and hands aren't the same, they're not...I missed you so..." He lets out a long, low moan when Esca starts hitting his sweet spot.

"Keep going," Esca encourages, rotating his hips in small circles, then thrusting deep, making Marcus' eyes cross. "Tell me."

It's hard as hell to even remember how to form words, especially with the way Esca is pushing inside him, but Esca had asked, and Marcus could never refuse Esca anything. "Your cock is incredible, I love the smell and taste of it on my tongue, I love how full I feel when you're deep inside me..."

He keeps talking, the words unimportant, as he clings to Esca and rides the waves of pleasure filling him from the inside out. " _Please_ , Esca, you feel so good, I've missed you so much, please, oh, I'm so close..."

"Look at me, Marcus...open your eyes, there you go..." Esca is smiling, that soft, crooked smile that Marcus had fallen for so many years ago, seducing him without even trying. He slows down, steady and sure, presses tiny kisses to Marcus' open, waiting lips. "Hold tight to me..."

"Yes," Marcus chokes out, and shifts, bringing Esca all the way back inside him. His knuckles are white from gripping Esca's shoulders so hard, but he couldn't let go if he tried. "You...please...fill me, take me, _move_..."

"Anything you want," Esca whispers, starts to move again, slow and steady, and Marcus almost sobs in relief. He's so close, and each glide of Esca's cock inside him sends him even closer to the edge. Then Esca's hand slides between them, curls around Marcus' cock, and strokes him, nice and tight.

Marcus comes harder than he ever has in his life, only vaguely aware of his surroundings and the way he moans his release, loud enough that even the Gods probably hear him. He doesn't care. All that matters is that Esca talks him through it, soft nonsense words whispered across his skin in light kisses, all while continuing to move inside Marcus with steady, even strokes.

"Please," Marcus murmurs, his voice low and broken, unable to focus as he opens his eyes. "More, Esca, please..." He doesn't know the words for what he wants, what he craves, but Esca seems to understand (the way he always seems to understand), because he simply smiles against Marcus' lips.

"I'm going to spend on your belly, if that's alright?"

Marcus nods, even though he doesn’t want Esca to slide out of him. He isn't ready to let go. But he wants Esca to mark him, wants to watch as Esca brands his skin, so he nods again, and tries not to protest too much when Esca pulls out of him and kneels between Marcus' thighs.

"You," Marcus whispers, and holds onto Esca's hips. "Please, Esca I need...I need you to..."

" _Whatever_ you want." Then Esca takes his cock in hand and strokes up, fast and even, and the hut could catch on fire for all Marcus cares, he can't look away. Esca is so goddamn beautiful it almost stops his heart, and when Esca finally comes along Marcus' hip and stomach, Marcus feels complete again for the first time since Esca's departure almost two months ago. 

Then he stops thinking altogether when Esca settles on top of them, smearing come between them, and captures Marcus' lips in kiss after slow kiss, each one as sweet as honeyed mead, and just as intoxicating. 

"Now that's what I call a proper homecoming." Esca smiles, and he looks so pleased, so bright and happy, that it makes Marcus smile, too. "Perhaps I should go away more often if this is what I have to look forward to."

"Don't you dare." Marcus tightens his arms around Esca in emphasis and in warning. 

"Easy now, I but jest." Esca worms one hand between them, settles his palm against Marcus' heart. "You're mine as I am yours," he says, with a light kiss that seals the vow. "Wherever I go, however far, you are still with me."

"Flatterer," Marcus replies, but his treacherous heart melts all the same. "I am not a woman you need to woo with sweet words."

"No, just a hard fucking when I return to your side," Esca teases, grinding their hips against each other to prove his point.

Marcus flushes, but juts his chin up in defiance. "You call _that_ a hard fuck?"

Esca's eyes darken to cobalt. "No, I call it just getting started," he states, and steals Marcus' reply with a possessive kiss that promises much, much more to come.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Boop and Steph for the betas!
> 
> You can now find me on [Tumblr](https://brendaonao3.tumblr.com)!


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